Become the Beast
by Celestial-Vapidity
Summary: Brigitte meets the Big Bad Wolf. But there's something awfully familiar about her...


Can't say much without spoiling it. WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of corpses, graphic descriptions of animal corpses, animal death, minor character death, blood gore, sister/sister incest, and vomit. The girl at the end is Ghost. I'm not sure if the story made that clear. The title is taken from Become the Beast by Karliene. I think that song fits the GS movies, and Brigitte and Ginger's relationship really well. I hope you enjoy!

(Also for those of you who're wondering about Margot Drabbles, I temporarily removed it for personal reasons. I plan on re-uploading it soon. I know I haven't updated Children of the Revolution or Pretend I Didn't Tear Your World Apart in a while. I've been really sick and didn't feel up to writing more chapters, but I'm doing somewhat better now. I'm currently working on new chapters for both, so expect that soon.)

* * *

Brigitte must be brave. She must be brave for Grandmother. With her red hood, and her basket of goodies, she steps into the woods. The same woods into which her sister disappeared so long ago.

Brigitte has no memory of the day the girl in the photographs disappeared. The taller, red-haired beauty with piercing eyes. All she remembers is coming home, shaking, blood on her hands.

But that was years ago, and now she must travel through the same woods. Everything has changed since that day. Instead of encouraging the local children to play on the forest edge, now they're told ' _don't go within 20 feet of the edge or you'll end up like that Fitzgerald girl. The wolves in the forest will snatch you up and swallow you whole…Or worse.'_

Now, her grandmother has croup. And isn't it odd that an old woman would have a children's disease? Brigitte knows how uncommon it is for adults to get croup. But she also knows that it can kill a young child if left untreated. She assumes the same goes for the elderly, as it often does.

As she keeps walking, deeper and deeper into the dark green of the woods, she begins to feel uneasy. She figures it's the fact that she's in the woods that her sister was eaten (she assumes) by wolves, even if she can't remember it. She quickly realizes that isn't the only reason she's afraid.

As she steps into a clearing, she smells something. Something heavy and unsettling. She glances around, before her eyes land on the birds' nest on the grass. There are cracked eggs, with half-formed chicks hanging out, as well as the remains of the parent birds. The parent birds still have small chunks of meat still on them.

As if in a trance, Brigitte walks toward the nest and the corpses. She carefully tugs and twists until the skulls of the parent birds come off into her hands. Her hands have gore and blood on them. The smell of death is heavy in the clearing.

There's a crackle of leaves, as if under the feet of a great beast. Brigitte tears her gaze from the nest in time to see her. The huge white demon, staring at her with her head tilted.

She looks like a wolf. Only there's something distinctly _wrong_ about her. Maybe it's the fact that she's at least three times the size of any wolf she's ever seen. Maybe it's the piercing sapphire eyes. Or maybe it's the look in them. _Surprise. Recognition. Joy._

The wolf grins at her. "Hello, my dear. What are you doing in my woods?"

Brigitte shivers under the wolf's stare. She's looking at her as if she's going to be her next meal. "I'm going to see my grandmother. She's ill," Brigitte's voice is shaking as she responds.

The wolf laughs, causing the leaves on the trees to shake. Brigitte knows immediately that her response was incorrect. At least, to the beast's unpredictable standards.

"Then what're you doing picking at the corpses of birds, like some desperate scavenger?"

Brigitte, can't think of anything to say. In all honesty, she doesn't know, herself. She shrugs.

The wolf walks closer. Brigitte stiffens, despite the wolf's body language being calm and not showing any signs that she will attack. Better safe than sorry.

"How about a deal, little one? I lead you to your grandmother's house safely, and you give me something." The wolf is grinning.

"What do you want?" Brigitte feels sick, and terrified. She doesn't want to know what the creature wants.

"I want you to keep your promise to me."

Brigitte is bewildered. She's certain she's never seen this wolf-demon before in her life, let alone talked to her. "What promise? I've never met you before."

"Oh, but you have. And you'll remember the promise soon. Now, let's get going."

They stand, and Brigitte climbs unto the beast's back. The creature's pale fur is so soft, and her body so strong and warm beneath her. She tightens her hands into it, as they journey, the trees blurs of dark browns and greens around them.

Soon, _too soon_ , almost in the blink of an eye, their journey is over. Grandmother's house is a few yards in front of them. Brigitte dismounts from the wolf, and thanks her.

"I'll be waiting, my love."

Brigitte is perturbed, but says nothing, taking the basket of goodies inside. She climbs the stairs and knocks on the bedroom door. No response. She cracks it open.

She gags at the stench. Death, and mucus, and feces. She vomits on the wooden floor. She looks up, coughing, to see Grandmother on the bed. Her eyes are closed, and her body pale.

Brigitte climbs down the stairs, and leaves the house. She approaches the wolf. The wolf stares at her.

"Dead." There are no tears. Not from Brigitte. She isn't, never has been, the type to cry at death.

The wolf sighs, and licks her face. "Stay here. I'll be back." She walks into the house, disappearing.

Brigitte obeys her demon. She waits a second. Then a minute. Then an hour. Until the sun is setting and rising again, and she's struggling to keep her eyes open.

The wolf finally comes out, belly swollen and maw red. She licks her chops and nuzzles her. Brigitte finds herself petting the demon, and holding her close.

After a few moments of much needed contact, the wolf pulls away. "Come with me. I'll keep you warm and safe."

Brigitte follows the wolf to a large cave. Inside there is a sort-of bed made of plants, and bones of long-dead creatures, and ripped up fabric. Despite all this, it feels safe and like a home.

"Rid yourself of your human-garments. You won't need them anymore."

Brigitte finds herself complying, stripping her clothes off, and immediately feeling the harsh cold. The bird skulls fall out of her pockets. The wolf approaches with a gentle look.

"Hold out your hand."

She does. The wolf bites into her flesh, hard enough to draw blood. Brigitte hisses in pain, but doesn't pull away. She feels the wolf lapping at the wound. She likes the soft, wet, warmth of its tongue.

Immediately, she doesn't feel cold anymore. She feels warm. Almost too warm, all over. She's filled with unspeakable, unexplainable, joy.

"Out by 16, or dead in the scene. But together forever."

Brigitte's head jolts over to stare at her companion. Her heart is pounding, and there are tears in her eyes. "Where did you hear that?"

"From you."

"You mean…?"

"It's so good to see you. I've missed you, like someone took half my heart. It's been lonely."

Brigitte envelops her sister in a bone-crushing hug, sobbing. "Ginger! It's you!"

* * *

The two wolves stalk through the forest. There's a poor young girl, lost. Small with long blonde hair. They want her. For a meal, or for the pack. Whichever the girl would prefer.

Brigitte bumps her head against Ginger's flank, affectionately. Ginger nips at her scruff in return. A pack of two isn't much, but they're happy.

Ginger wants to expand the pack. Brigitte is satisfied with just the two of them, but she knows that a larger pack is a good idea. She'll be happy either way.

She knows that her mate would love for them to have pups, and so would she, but she knows that won't be possible unless they can find a willing male surrogate. Or unless they can take in and change the little human-pup in their territory.

Her human-side is gone now. Now it's just Alpha-mate-Ginger, and Omega-mate-Brigitte. And the thrill of running through the dark forest, and howling at the moon. The delicious red staining of teeth and fur. They love to howl together, their voices blending beautifully.

As they get closer to the girl, they move more slowly. They're getting ready to give chase now. With one last look between them, the black and the white-furred beasts spring up, and sprint toward the young girl. Every move is natural instinct. With Mother Moon blessing them from overhead and their bird-skull charms tied carefully around their necks, there's no way they can fail.


End file.
